Jake Grumbach, Assistant Professor of Political Science at the University of Washington, and author of the forthcoming book laboratories against democracy, joined Democracy Works to examine some of the myths surrounding federalism and state politics.
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Protesters gather at a Nobody Is Above the Law rally protesting President Trump's interference in the Mueller investigation on November 08, 2018 in Washington, DC.
Americans are told that no one is above the law. Yet every day, they watch a president behave in ways that would get any ordinary citizen fired, disciplined, confronted, or held accountable — and they watch some Americans excuse it. What makes this moment even more striking is that critics across the political spectrum, including conservatives, now warn that the presidency is operating on a dangerous double standard. This is not a partisan concern. It is a constitutional one. And it is tearing at the fabric of our democracy.
For generations, the Constitution has provided guardrails — separation of powers, checks and balances, oversight mechanisms, and limits on executive authority — designed to prevent any leader from functioning above the law. The framers feared concentrated power more than anything else. They believed that the presidency must be constrained not only by written law but by norms of restraint, dignity, and respect for institutions. Those norms held for centuries because presidents understood that the office was larger than any individual, and Congress understood that oversight was not optional.
Today, those guardrails are weakening. The public sees a president who breaks long‑standing norms, attacks predecessors, ignores bipartisan laws, and treats accountability as optional. They see Congress look away. They see institutions hesitate to assert independence. And they see behaviors that would be unacceptable in any other setting — retaliation, public insults, threats, and victimhood — excused simply because they come from the presidency.
If any ordinary American behaved this way — shouting insults, attacking colleagues, ignoring rules, retaliating against critics, and playing the victim — they would face consequences immediately. They would be disciplined at work, confronted at home, or held responsible in court. Yet when the president behaves this way, some Americans defend it, normalize it, or dismiss it. Retaliation is not power. Revenge is not leadership. Playing the victim is not strength. These behaviors do not demonstrate authority; they demonstrate insecurity. And they are behaviors that many Americans would never tolerate from their own families, friends, neighbors, or coworkers.
The public has watched a president verbally attack reporters, demean citizens, and retaliate against critics — yet demand respect in return. They have watched him warn that he will be impeached if his party loses control of Congress, as if oversight were a punishment rather than a constitutional duty. If a president were acting lawfully and responsibly, the loss of congressional control would not be a threat; it would simply be part of the democratic process. The truth is not that Americans want him impeached. The truth is that they want him checked.
And they have watched something else: powerful supporters — including billionaires who would never tolerate such behavior from their own employees — excuse conduct from the presidency that they would punish in any other context. Analysts note that some do not excuse it because it is acceptable, but because it benefits them. That is not loyalty. That is not leadership. It is a distortion of democratic expectations.
Americans also watched a national milestone — the 250th anniversary of the country, originally designed as a bipartisan celebration — reshaped into a personal spectacle. What should have been a moment of shared pride became another example of how easily national symbols can be repurposed for personal branding.
They also watched as the president declined to divest from his businesses, despite constitutional expectations. Multiple analyses estimate that his businesses generated billions in revenue during his presidency — raising concerns about conflicts of interest and Emoluments Clause violations. No other president in modern history has profited at this scale while in office. That, too, is a double standard.
Americans will never forget Senator Susan Collins saying the president had “learned his lesson” after facing accountability. Months later, the nation witnessed an attack on the Capitol — an abuse of power that contradicted her assurance. Ordinary citizens are expected to learn lessons, follow rules, and face consequences. The president is expected to do none of those things.
Some even accept this behavior, calling it a “new norm.” But lowering standards is not a path to stability. It is a path to erosion — of expectations, of institutions, and of the shared rules that hold a democracy together. Many Americans are exhausted — not by politics itself, but by the constant erosion of standards they once believed were shared. How much are Americans willing to tolerate when it comes to standards?
This normalization is not accidental. Scholars warn that when democratic norms erode, societies begin to tolerate behaviors they once rejected. They call this authoritarian drift — not because the nation has become authoritarian, but because the habits that protect democracy begin to weaken. When leaders retaliate against critics, undermine independent institutions, portray oversight as persecution, and demand loyalty over legality, the system starts to tilt. And when the public excuses conduct from the presidency that they would never tolerate from anyone else, the tilt accelerates.
Some policy proposals circulating today — including those in Project 2025 — reflect this shift. They call for expanding presidential control over federal agencies, reducing independent oversight, and replacing career civil servants with political appointees. Analysts warn that these proposals would weaken the very guardrails the framers designed to prevent executive overreach. Whether these proposals are adopted or not, their existence signals a troubling willingness to reconsider the constitutional boundaries that have protected the Republic for more than two centuries.
Americans must stop normalizing behavior that is not normal. We cannot excuse conduct from the presidency that we would never tolerate from anyone else. Democracy depends on shared expectations — and when those expectations collapse, the system collapses with them. Society punishes citizens for behaviors it excuses in the president. The scales of justice feel increasingly flawed. Ordinary people face consequences for misconduct, while leaders often do not. This triple standard — one for the powerful, one for their allies, and one for everyone else — is incompatible with the rule of law.
If the nation wants to restore stability, it must return to the constitutional guardrails that were designed to protect it. That means insisting that presidents separate personal financial interests from public duty, and that Congress enforce transparency and strengthen conflict‑of‑interest laws. It means restoring congressional oversight as a coequal function of government, not a partisan weapon. It means empowering independent institutions to act without fear of retaliation, and protecting career civil servants from political replacement. It means rejecting the idea that misconduct becomes acceptable simply because it comes from the presidency, and demanding that standards apply equally — to citizens, to Congress, and to the executive branch. And it means reviving a culture of dignity, restraint, and respect for institutions, so the presidency once again embodies character, integrity, responsibility, and accountability rather than spectacle, retaliation, or self‑promotion. Restoring standards is not only a constitutional necessity — it is a moral one.
We cannot keep saying that no one is above the law while watching leaders act above it. We cannot keep excusing behavior from the presidency that we would never tolerate from anyone else. Americans want normalcy — a government free of retaliation, corruption, and revengeful acts; a restoration of separation of powers; respect for the Republic and its people; and fidelity to the Constitution. When conservatives and liberals alike begin warning about double standards and unchecked power, it is a sign that the crisis is not ideological — it is structural. If the nation is to regain its footing, it must return to a simple truth: what’s good for the goose must be good for the gander — and the law must apply to leaders with the same force it applies to citizens. Anything less is not democracy.
Carolyn Goode is a retired educational leader and former principal who has spent her career advancing civic responsibility, equity, and public engagement. She writes about democracy, leadership, and the values that strengthen American communities.
President Donald Trump walks off of Air Force One at Newark Liberty International Airport on Aug. 7, 2026, in Newark, New Jersey.
In October 1980, then-candidate Ronald Reagan asked voters a very important question: “Are you better off than you were four years ago?”
It was during the only televised debate he had against incumbent President Jimmy Carter, whose presidency had been marred by one crisis after another, from record-high inflation and rising unemployment, to soaring gas prices and the Iran hostage crisis.
Reagan knew the answer to his question was a resounding “no,” and asking it helped propel him to a landslide victory. It also became a regularly-invoked rhetorical feature of presidential campaigns going forward.
No one knows the cautionary tale of Carter’s presidency more than our current president, who has repeatedly used it as a stand-in for presidential failure and American weakness. Although Carter’s legacy greatly improved in the years since leaving office, he ended his only term with a bleak 34% approval rating.
Donald Trump currently sits at an abysmal 32%, according to Quinnipiac’s latest polling, and likely for many of the same reasons Carter finished where he did, ironically — high inflation, rising gas prices, and a foreign policy crisis in Iran.
So, the question of whether voters are better off than they were two years ago isn’t hard to answer for most — in January of this year just 28% said they were better off than they were a year ago, and in July that number had dropped to 19%.
And it’s no wonder — when you move beyond the economic numbers, which are bad enough, the picture of Trump’s America gets worse and worse with every peak behind the MAGA curtain.
In fact, it can feel at times like America has become a Third World country.
Case in point, the U.S. is in the midst of a measles outbreak, with more cases than it’s seen in more than three decades, thanks to the administration’s vaccine misinformation. We are now at risk of losing our official measles elimination status, which we’ve held for more than a quarter century.
We’re also facing no fewer than 11 foodborne illness outbreaks, including two separate cyclospora outbreaks, as well as outbreaks of listeria, salmonella and E. coli, all since Trump downsized oversight agencies, dropped food-facility inspections, and stripped back mandatory reporting requirements at the federal Foodborne Diseases Active Surveillance Network.
Trump’s dumb war in Iran has depleted American munitions significantly — up to 80% in some categories — straining stockpiles and raising readiness concerns. And there are new reports of sailors on the USS Abraham Lincoln, deployed to the North Arabian Sea since November, desperately jumping overboard amidst poor conditions — from clogged toilets to mildewed showers, food supply problems to mental health concerns.
This is America — the superpower? Where college grads can’t find work, where housing is unaffordable for 75% of the population, where families must choose between paying rent or paying doctors bills? Where you can be shot dead for peacefully protesting? Where your government is shuttering important health agencies while spewing junk science about autism and Tylenol? Where our allies are skeptical of us and our enemies no longer seem to fear us?
While Trump fiddles with reflecting pools, golden statues and ballrooms, it feels like America is burning, becoming less and less formidable and functional with every passing day.
And Republicans are asking for two more years of control of it all. Who could possibly want more of this?
Upon the occasion of Carter’s 100th birthday in October 2024, Trump did what Trump does — and insulted him. But only to insult former President Joe Biden worse, saying Carter was happy because he “is considered a brilliant president by comparison.”
Just think what they’ll say about Trump — overseeing all of this chaos, destruction, corruption and incompetence. “Are you better off?” Are you kidding?
S.E. Cupp is the host of "S.E. Cupp Unfiltered" on CNN.
President Trump has moved the GOP left on abortion right, trade and industrial policy over his two terms.
I often get asked for my advice on how to vote. I’m the first to concede these requests come from a very niche slice of the electorate — that tiny remnant of people who know who I am, value my opinion and share my exasperation with both parties.
I am going to answer the question. But first let me explain why I don’t like it.
I think too many pundits on the left and right fall into the habit of confusing or conflating the fortunes of a party with that of their philosophy. Many come by this tendency honestly. As the parties have polarized ideologically, it’s a natural assumption to think that the GOP and Democrats are the sole vessels for conservatism and progressivism, respectively.
Add in the very human tendency to favor the politicians who return your phone calls and seek your approval, and that rooting interest can get even more intense.
One problem with this approach — and there are many — is that what is best for the GOP in an election year is not necessarily what is best for conservatism in the long run. The same goes for the Democrats and progressivism.
For instance, on many issues — abortion, trade, industrial policy, etc. — President Trump has moved the GOP leftward over his two terms. But just try telling most Republicans in 2016, 2020 or 2024 that a Republican victory would be bad for conservatism.
President Obama wanted a very progressive agenda, and he got some of it. He also cost his party roughly a thousand elected offices across his two terms, and left behind a political climate that made the Trump presidency possible (and which erased many of Obama’s executive orders). President Biden left his cause and his party in an even uglier ditch.
The point isn’t about political point-scoring. It’s simply to note that ideological and intellectual progress — however you define progress — doesn’t move in lockstep with electoral success or failure. In his 1996 State of the Union address, President Clinton declared that “the era of big government is over” and moved rightward on welfare reform. This was a victory for conservatism and a political loss for Republicans, because his triangulation got Clinton reelected.
Single-issue activists often understand this logic better than generic ideologues or partisans do. The last thing abortion rights activists want is for antiabortion Democrats to become a major faction, just as antiabortion advocates don’t want Republicans who support abortion rights to gain political traction. But the same activists would love to see the other party move in their direction — because the goal isn’t to use the issue of abortion as a wedge issue or for fundraising, but to forge a bipartisan consensus.
That’s how I think about the proper goal of the “conservative movement” — to move America’s center of gravity rightward, not just the GOP’s. Put simply, conservatives should celebrate when conservative Democrats are nominated, even if that’s bad for Republicans electorally.
I also believe that candidates who discredit or deform conservatism by claiming to be conservative should lose.
Which brings me to my advice. I think that voters should be more interested in rewarding good behavior and good character than in ideological or partisan purity. That doesn’t mean ideology and partisanship are irrelevant. I think these things can be balanced.
Take the Senate race in Texas. Democrat James Talarico is ideologically not my cup of tea, and he is quite far to the left for Texas. But his Republican opponent, Texas Attorney General Ken Paxton, is in my view a corrupt gargoyle simply unfit for any office. I’m not here to debate that opinion, because the people seeking my advice generally share it.
So, if you’re a conservative who thinks Talarico is too left-wing and Paxton is bat-winged, don’t vote for either of them.
But you should still vote.
You can leave the Senate line blank while voting for other Republicans on the ballot (you can also select Libertarian candidate Ted Brown). Sending the message that your problem is Paxton, not Republicans, is one that Republicans and conservatives need to hear.
If I were a progressive, I would have the same approach toward candidates aligned with the Democratic Socialists of America who will hurt either the party or the cause. Vote for all the other Democrats, just not the radicals who spout the sort of nonsense that turns off more mainstream voters than they attract.
One reason our politics are such a mess is that fringe candidates know they can count on the reflexive support of their parties — and their pundits! — the moment they get the nomination. Strategically voting to end that dynamic is not inconsistent with the best interests of your ideological cause or your party, because those interests are often in tension in an election year.
Jonah Goldberg is editor-in-chief of The Dispatch and the host of The Remnant podcast. His Twitter handle is @JonahDispatch.
A golden tray sits on the Resolute Desk as President Donald Trump speaks during an announcement on American nuclear innovation in the Oval Office at the White House on July 24, 2026, in Washington, D.C. Trump is signing multiple executive orders targeting the nuclear energy sector and easing rules for new reactors and nuclear fuel supply chains.
Trump’s hubris rivals the fallen heroes of ancient Greek mythology
In January, the New York Times asked President Donald Trump if there were any limits on his global powers.
“Yeah,” the president responded, “there is one thing. My own morality. My own mind. It’s the only thing that can stop me.”
That was eight months ago, but fortunately Christopher Nolan’s blockbuster adaptation of “The Odyssey” has made ancient Greek literature newly relevant. Before that window closes, I’d like to talk about hubris.
Today, the term mostly means excessive pride or arrogance. That’s part of what the Greeks meant by it too, but the meaning was a bit richer and more specific. Hubris was an insolent or outrageous act that offended the gods, often because the transgressor was claiming abilities or authorities that solely belonged to supreme beings.
Nolan renamed and slightly modified the concept of xenia for the film, calling it “Zeus’ law.” In the director’s telling, mortals should follow the rules laid out by the gods, specifically the requirement to treat strangers with respect lest they be gods in disguise.
In a sense, hubris is the opposite, or at least the rejection, of xenia. The hubris of the suitors, and at times Odysseus himself, invites punishment by the gods and their mortal instruments.
Which brings me back to Donald Trump. His claim that there are no constraints on his personal power to dictate events on the global stage was one of the greatest expressions of hubris ever uttered by a political leader.
Trump’s claim was obviously false when he made it.
He vowed that he could end the Russia-Ukraine war in 24 hours. He’s proved powerless to make that happen. If he had divine powers to work his will, why would he have balked at implementing his tariffs so often that Wall Street adopted the “TACO trade” term for his deals? “TACO” stands for “Trump always chickens out.”
And why would Trump have made so many embarrassing concessions to China — from rescinding tariffs on Chinese goods to allowing them to buy crucial and incredibly valuable computer chips?
But Trump saw his success at capturing Venezuelan strongman Nicolas Maduro as proof of his ability to launch missiles to the same effect as Zeus’ lightning bolts. Trump believed he was the most powerful man who ever lived.
This is no exaggeration. In March, when the Iran invasion seemed successful, Trump gave a document penned by“Presidential Historian David King” to New York Times reporters Maggie Haberman and Jonathan Swan purporting to prove that Trump was “the most powerful person to have EVER walked this planet.” King was, in fact, a businessman and occasional caddy for legendary golfer Gary Player.
King compared Trump favorably to many of history’s most powerful, and often heinous, figures: Alexander the Great, Attila the Hun, William the Conqueror, Napoleon Bonaparte, Joseph Stalin, Genghis Khan, Mao Tse Tung, Adolf Hitler and Vladimir Lenin. Many of these men thought they were the most powerful person in the world, too. And many were defeated precisely because they believed it.
At least Napoleon and Hitler had a string of truly impressive victories before they learned the folly of hubris. The limits on Trump’s power have been exposed by far less august forces than the combined might of the allies in World War II or the fearsome Russian winter.
Iran is a comparatively middling power. But the regime’s ability to absorb punishment while imposing its will on the Strait of Hormuz has proved to be a greater constraint on Trump’s power than his morality or mind. We should note that, at least rhetorically, his morality has not proved much of a constraint. He has repeatedly promised to destroy Iranian “civilization” if the regime refuses to capitulate.
But they haven’t — and won’t anytime soon — because the regime’s tolerance for pain far outstrips Trump’s. The combined fear of skyrocketing oil prices, outrage of Gulf state potentates, diminishing weapon supplies and domestic unpopularity is doing the work that international law, congressional oversight and the collective opinion of foreign policy experts can’t or won’t do.
If I considered Trump more heroic than reason and facts could allow, I would say his Sisyphean predicament has the whiff of Greek tragedy to it. Trump is vexed by the fact that the Iranians won’t honor deals or ratify his countless premature claims of victory — giving new meaning to his vow that his presidency would make people tired of winning. It’s almost like they’re out-Trumping Trump.
Things might have gone better if he’d heeded that great Greek tragedian Sophocles: “For Zeus utterly abhors the boasts of a proud tongue.”
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Jonah Goldberg is editor-in-chief of The Dispatch and the host of The Remnant podcast. His Twitter handle is @JonahDispatch.